


Healing Children

by AnnAisu



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Acceptance, Amused Loki, Curious Tony, De-Aged, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Magic, Magic Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnAisu/pseuds/AnnAisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has turned Tony into a child without his older self's memories, with no true purpose in mind (that he will admit to himself). Tony is now a curious, intelligent, and thoughtful six-year old missing any recollections beyond his 'new'; age. Loki...he is unpredictable at times, but even Tony can see the hurt lingering inside of him.<br/>What will happen while Tony living with Loki? Can the two help soothe each others wounds, or will they antagonize each other until everything falls apart?<br/>...I don't think I know, and those two certainly don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Panic Attack

Tony let out a soft moan as he slowly woke. His chest was aching, his head was throbbing, and his mind was feeling muffled and mushy. He tried to focus his thoughts on why he might be feeling this poorly; had he gone into the labs and destroyed anything or caused an explosion? Tony frowned and opened his eyes slowly when he realized that he could not remember what he had been doing last night.

He was forced to squint instead of opening his eyes fully when the slightest bit of light caused his eyes to ache. He carefully started looking around, instantly noting he did not recognize the room he was in. The walls were a deep, muted blue, almost the color of deep space. He slowly dragged his eyes up to the ceiling, noticing that it was weird and different as well. The ceiling had actually been painted, with either a dark navy blue or black color, and little pinpricks of light colors dotted across it. Was it supposed to represent the night sky?

Tony carefully scanned the ceiling and decided that the variable amount and color of the spots suggested that this was a highly detailed imitation of the night sky. So, he scanned the sky, looking for the Big Dipper or Orion’s belt to support this theory, but he could not find either of them. Tony sighed and decided that, although it appeared as if it had been painted with considerable detail, there had been no intention for the ceiling to match the view of the stars from Earth.

Frowning, he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position on the too-small bed with his careful hands. The covers were a black, and the sheets that fell off him were colored a light blue that matched well with the bright blue light coming from behind him. The light was bright, obnoxious, and it was irritating his sore eyes. So, Tony carefully turned around, ignoring the odd feeling in his chest, and looked for the light that had to be behind him.

There was no light. There was a lamp nearby him, but it was dark and obviously not the origin of the abnormal light. Frowning, because the light was really starting to hurt his eyes and his mind was still fuzzy, he carefully started to scan all around the room for the light. He froze before he had even completely turned back around as his sluggish mind noted that the light was changing direction with him, throwing different parts of the room into shadows and illumination.

Tony slowly, timidly looked down and realized that the blue light was coming out from under his shirt- and these weren’t the normal jammies he wore either. He was wearing a thin, see-through T-shirt, and he slowly pulled it off, almost afraid to look for the light now. But his chest was hurting and the light was even brighter, so he carefully looked down at his now bare chest.

He stifled a little whimper at what he saw. There was a glowing blue light in his chest, _inside his chest,_ encased in a circle of metal _set into his flesh._ He feels scenes flashing before his eyes: screaming, weapons like his dad’s,  bright lights, _pain pain pain_ in his chest, trying not to scream, poison flowing through his veins, _iron inside his body._ Whimpering slightly, he raised his little hand up to his chest, slowly tracing the edge of the metal. He carefully ran his finger down the raised metal, the thing that was _sticking out of his chest_ and _digging into his chest_ , and he could feel it inside him and he _broke._

Tony screamed his six-year-old lungs out. He screamed- his eyes hurt, his head hurt, he had _something in his chest,_ he didn’t know where he was, he couldn’t even remember what had happened recently- so he wailed in anguish. His young eyes teared up, but even as he unsuccessfully tried to stop his screams, he refused to cry. His father would only scorn him more if he saw tears. His shoulders started shaking as his screams quieted down into whimpers, fingers clutching at his chest, trying to cover up the painful light.

Shaking violently, Tony tried to calm himself, but his fogged mind refused to listen to his panicked commands. Suddenly, there was an arm around his shoulders, and a hand on his head. Tony froze, not knowing who was there. He kept his eyes firmly squeezed shut –when had he closed them? - and did not move, still trying to quell his shaking.

The hand around his shoulders was loose, but it pulled him into a cool body. The hand on his head began gently running through his hair in a soothing gesture. Who was doing this?  Tony carefully opened his tender eyes, withholding a small whimper of pain as he did so. All he could see was a dark shirt that his face was buried into. He could feel the soft cloth beneath his cheeks, and the firm muscle beneath that. His panicking brain managed to pull itself together long enough to predict with a 92% guarantee that the figure holding him was a male.

The man was not doing anything but holding him close and soothingly running a hand through his dark hair. The feeling of being comforted and held close was foreign to Tony. Never in his memory –and that meant never ever in his six years of life- had he remembered somebody calming him like this. So, he tentatively lifted a hand from the _metal in his chest_ , and clutched at the man’s shirt even as he repressed a new outburst.

The man shifted uncomfortably a little, but allowed Tony to grab onto his shirt with both hands, his hand steadily petting through Tony’s hair. Tony’s shaking stopped, but he still held onto the man with his tight fisted grip. He refused to let go of the man that was holding him close, but his brain was restarting and beginning to work again and was protesting his needing somebody. His mind was screaming at him to let go, but his heart was aching and it told him to hang onto the man for dear life. _‘And sanity,’_ Tony added bitterly to himself.

The man’s soothing motions slowed when Tony stopped shaking, but he didn’t let go of the small boy. Tony heard a quiet sigh come from the man, and the hand ruffled his hair once before pulling away. Tony whimpered a little and dug his head into the man’s side, and the hand returned. After a few moments of motionless silence, the man spoke. “Are you calm now?”

His voice was soft and low, a quiet interruption to Tony’s frantic yet uncatchable thoughts. Tony nodded slowly, and decided to try speaking. “Wh- who are you?” he asked, his voice wavering and muffled by the fabric.

The man was silent for a moment, and pulled his hand away again. Tony silently mourned the loss, but he did nothing this time. There was another gentle sigh, but the silence continued otherwise uninterrupted. Tony did nothing, and neither did the man say anything else for several long moments. Tony almost jumped when the man actually did say something. “My name is… Loki.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment, running through his memory to see if he knew or had encountered a ‘Loki’ somewhere. He came up blank, except for one thing. “Like the Norse god Loki? I read about him in one of my mythology books. He was a trickster and shape-changer, right? Most scientists and theoreticians agree that he is incredibly hard to pin down and give a name to his nature...” Tony stopped talking as he noticed the man stiffening beneath him. Tony didn’t want to pull away, but he looked up and away from the shirt towards the man’s face.

He could see black hair, long for a guy, and a thin face. The man’s –Loki’s? - eyes were closed though, and all that Tony could see was that his face had closed off. He was afraid he had said something wrong, but the man didn’t move away again. He relaxed marginally when the man finally opened his eyes again and looked down. “Yes…like that Loki exactly. I had not realized that you were quite so well-versed in scholarly information yet.”

Tony frowned up at the man. “You think I don’t know about Norse mythology when I already know how to create rudimentary computers?”

Loki’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I had not realized you were accomplished for one so young.”

Tony looked away, and the thing in his chest began demanding his attention once again. His gaze turned towards it without his command, and he started shaking again, his mind clouding. He bit down on his rising terror and the pathetic whimper before it could leave his throat. “What,” he tried to say, but it came out as a shaky squeak. He swallowed his panic and made another attempt to speak. “What is…that?” He didn’t like how shakily his voice came out, but at least he managed to put words to his fear.

“That…” the man, Loki, murmured. “That, I believe, is an arc reactor. I do not know much, but I do know that device is keeping you alive. It was already within you,” here Tony accidently let out a low whine of fear, “when I found you.” Loki paused and looked down at the small boy. “It is not causing you any pain, is it?”

Tony carefully sat up straight, pulling away from the man. Pushing away the unreasoning terror, he carefully examined his chest and the feelings it was giving off. “It…I don’t think it’s hurting me, but…” Tony shivered. “It’s inside me. I can feel it in my chest. My heart keeps jostling it, and I can feel it when I move like a tight shirt. It feels a bit like when your lungs are congested, and you can feel the stuff inside it. It isn’t producing any pain, but I have a glowing piece of metal in my chest! How did this happen? Why don’t I remember?” he wailed, once again losing his tentative composure.

A soft sob ripped from his throat, and the hand returned to the top of his head. Tony quieted quickly this time, soothed by the calming touch. It was a very nice hand. It was cool but soft, and it made the ache inside his head dissipate. He slowly breathed in and out, focusing on the pleasant feel of the hand. Nobody ever came this close to him. No one would hug him or comfort him, and he was treasuring this newfound relief.

The soft-spoken man said nothing for a few moments, simply stroking his head, before he began to speak again. “I don’t know much, but I do know a little more about your situation than I do about the miniaturized arc reactor itself. I believe you were hit by a weapon, and the shrapnel buried itself inside your chest.” Tony froze and lay a hand flat against his chest, as if he could feel the tiny slivers of metal under his skin. “The device in your chest is keeping the metal shards from entering your heart. Your kidnappers, the ones responsible for the damage and the device, have since been killed. You managed to escape, but you’ve taken a blow to the head.” Loki frowned. “Can you remember who you are?”

Tony nodded shakily. _So that’s why my memories messed up._ “I’m Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark of Stark Industries.” He suddenly made a face, distracted by a minor concern. “Call me Tony and not Anthony. Anthony is a boy that’s ignored by his dad unless he messed up again.” Tony looked away, and then focused back up at the raven haired man. “Can you take me back to his house? If you can spin it right, you could probably get something from it. Maybe.” Tony trailed off, before picking the thread of conversation back up. “So, where are we, anyways? The ceiling is pretty neat, but the constellations aren’t right. If the dots are supposed to be stars, then the entire layout is skewed.”

Loki blinked several times in apparent confusion. Tony supposed the older man wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this observation or his quickly changing train of thought. Tony snuggled back into the man’s side as he replied to Tony’s questions. “I am…still surprised at the knowledge you show, Tony, but perhaps I should not be.” Tony felt Loki’s chest rise and fall as he heaved another heavy sigh.

“We are currently residing in my humble abode. This is my bedroom, and the stars…” The man trailed off slowly. Tony nuzzled into his side, not knowing why he felt so clingy to this unknown man, but indulging himself anyways. “The stars,” Loki started again, “Are a reminder of the place I was reared, and one of the only memento’s I allow myself.”

The older man trailed off, and Tony pulled back and reexamined the ceiling. He attempted to identify the star clusters, but he eventually gave up when he couldn’t find a single constellation from either the Southern or Northern hemisphere. “I give up. I can’t find any of the constellations from anywhere up there.” He pouted slightly as he admitted that fact. He had studied the sky because he loved flying, but he couldn’t find any resemblance to the star patterns he had casually studied.

Tony caught Loki looking at him oddly from the corner of his eye, but ignored it in favor of further pouting. The stars had been precisely painted, placed, and colored, so why couldn’t he place the patterns he just knew they had to be in? Loki finally let out a soft laugh. “Let’s just say I’m not from around here, and that where I am from the stars are different.”

Tony stared up at the man, his mind rapidly calculating the possible conclusions he could hypothesize from that statement. He decided to ask about the weirdest and option, see how the man responded, and incorporate the new data. “So…is that the view from Asgard or something like that?”

Loki froze the moment the word ‘Asgard’ left Tony’s lips. Tony gave a little mental cheer before the implications of his wild guess being accurate sank in. “Wait, seriously? I was just throwing that option out there because it would be so ironic!” Tony began to get excited, his need for new knowledge overwhelming any fear. “So, are you really that Loki, the awesome Loki from myths and stuff? Are any of the myths real or did we screw them up massively, because we humans screw _everything_ up and misunderstand _everything_.” Tony rolled his eyes as he spoke, showing his derision for the average human populace.

Tony jumped in surprise as Loki suddenly let out a bark of mad laughter; suddenly feeling simultaneously threatened and comforted by the others presence. “Tony Stark…” The other -man? god?- said slowly, letting the words slowly drip like venom from his tongue. “I think I will keep you.”

Tony felt a shiver of fear and warmth run up his spine at the man’s words, but the soft hand that had reappeared in his hair soothed him, telling him without words that Loki wasn’t going to hurt him. Tony began to wonder if he was crazy, but just turned his aching head back into Loki’s side. He buried his face into the cool shirt, and felt the adrenaline from his panic attack leave his system as exhaustion reared its ugly head. He managed to stay awake for another minute, still curled into the softly chuckling body, before he fell back to the bed, asleep.


	2. Sore Spots in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes again, this time slightly more cognizant of what is going on. After he leaves the room, he runs into a potential trouble and a familiar figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was an awesome picture drawn based on this story... You can see it at omano-chan.deviantart.com/#/d5dkf0q if you want. I suggest you do; it looks beautiful. Many thanks to Omano-chan!

Tony groaned and threw a hand over his face as he felt himself slowly rise into wakefulness. He threw his mind back to what he could last remember, attempting to predict how his day would proceed. He groaned again as he realized what he could remember clearly. He had awoken in a stranger’s house, owned by some guy name Loki, possibly the Loki of Norse mythology. He had found an ‘arc reactor’ buried _inside his chest_ and completely freaked out, falling into a panic attack and crying pathetically on Loki.

Tony felt his cheeks flush as he recalled what he had done. He had collapsed onto the man, crying and sobbing pitiably, refusing to let go of the man’s shirt. He was Anthony Stark, future owner of all things Stark! He _never_ cuddled, or cried, or completely fell apart like he had! He wasn’t a spoiled child, he was Tony Stark! Home of the greatest mind in, like, ever! He did _not_ cry on strange men!

Tony immediately put the incident out of his mind, shoving it into the corner of his brain delegated to contain weak and unpleasant thoughts. Tony refused to remember any weakness on his part, and instead contemplated what he had learned. He had said far too much to the man, but it had granted him with additional data to use. Tony decided that he would operate as if the man were the Norse god Loki, just in case. If the man was the Norse god- unlikely, practically impossible, but still an option- it would be unwise to anger him. If the man was delusional or humoring his guess, it would still be unwise to anger him. Tony paused for a moment, trying to decide if he could reign in his behavior and _not_ annoy the man. …Probably not. Tony shrugged to himself, deciding to save further contemplation for later.

Instead, Tony at up and examined the room he was within. The walls and ceiling were just as weird as he remembered, but now that he had thought (and cried, and panicked, and snuggled, and slept) through his panic, he could appreciate the furniture as well. The bed he was lying on was a queen sized bed; smaller than he was acclimated to sleeping on, yet still very spacious and comfortable. The lamp he had noticed earlier was standing on a small bedside table, within am arm’s length of the bed. It wasn’t a lamp as he knew it, but it was a very intricately decorated light source of some sort. Near it was a large and foreign-seeming book with a small pad of paper and pencil on top of it. On the other side of the room was a bookcase filled to the brim with various books, a desk with neat stacks of papers, and a comfortable-seeming armchair that was rather throne-like in appearance. Tony frowned as he continued looking around, seeing nothing else but more books. Where was the light coming from, if the lamp-thing was the only light source and it was extinguished?

Tony ignored the urge to smack himself in the head at his lack of thought. He had gone through that song and dance yesterday, being confused and panicking at seeing the light shining from his chest. Biting his lip –and then promptly releasing it, as that was not a Starkly thing to do- he cautiously looked back down at his chest. The light was glowing steadily, a bright blue casting his scarred chest into further detail- _wait, scarred?_

Tony paused and looked closer at his torso, trying to ignore the strange lighting effects. _I don’t remember having these scars…I suppose this is from the shrapnel Loki mentioned. There’s still some obvious wounds as well…and those bruises do not look nice in blue lighting._ Tony blew out a frustrated breath.

 _Right. New light source, check. I now have a pretty blue Arc Reactor shining out from a metal hole in my chest. I don’t even know what an arc reactor is…though it does sound somewhat familiar._ Tony blew out another drawn out breath of frustration. _Well, this is going to be fun getting used to._

Tony decided that he had admired himself for long enough already, and his curiosity was begging him to go outside the room and look around, maybe cause some mayhem. Tony slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, being especially careful not to jostle his chest or the metal contained within. He gently maneuvered himself onto his feet, swaying slightly as he stood, but managing to stay upright. He took a cautious step forward, and then another when he didn’t feel the need to faint, and then several more until he reached the closed door. He cautiously turned the doorknob and gingerly pulled it back, unsure of what would greet his eyes once the door was opened.

Tony was almost disappointed when the portal produced only an average hallway, unremarkable save for the bookcases lining the walls. The shelves were filled with books of all shapes and sizes, just like the ones in the bedroom, but various trinkets littered the shelves as well. Tony cautiously stepped over to the nearest bookcase and reached out to poke one of the glowing objects and-

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

At the sound of the low voice, Tony jumped and span around, beginning to hide his hands behind his back instinctively but he managed to simply rest his hand by his side. Tony was careful not to seem too innocent or abashed as he looked into the face of the speaker, and fully took in the face of Loki for the first time. His face was drawn and wan, pale and dark with shadows. His eyes were hooded and dark shadows hung beneath them, but they still managed to remain a brilliant emerald green color. His stance was strong and commanding, the pose of someone accustomed to power and obedience.

His host obviously expected Tony to take his advice, but that was a stupid thought as Tony rarely if ever listened to people in positions of power; especially when the power was focused solely on him. Tony weighed his options: listen to the man and don’t touch the intriguing objects, or disobey the implied order and possibly incur the man’s anger. _Curiosity vs. self-preservation_ ; Tony decided. _Can I keep my curiosity in check until I know all the details of my situation?_ Tony let out a mental snort. _Nah._

A moment had passed since Loki had spoken, and Tony decided that he had debated long enough. He tilted his head childishly to the right, playing up the innocent child act. “Why not?” Tony asked in his clear voice, hands already back to hovering over the object.

The man smirked at him, clearly having expected his disobedient response. Tony bristled imperceptibly under the somewhat smug expression, already resolving to defy the man’s expectations. “Simply because you have no knowledge of the device, and are thus unable to accurately identify any danger it would present. I would suggest discovering information on the objects scattered throughout my domicile before attempting to physically interact with any.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, before turning back to the object and dissecting it mentally. He almost pouted in disappointment when he realized that it was only a simple decorative piece with glowing features. He turned back to Loki with his pout still visible to be confronted with the man’s amused face. Tony tried not to scowl and pout, but he didn’t think he had been too successful when Loki openly smiled. He let out a sigh of annoyance, his negative feelings washing away with the carbon dioxide.

Tony decided that he could puzzle over the man’s possessions later; right now, he was going to question the man himself. “So…” the six-year-old started. “You’re name was Loki, right?” Loki nodded, his amused smile fading into a smug smirk. “What’s your surname, then?” Loki’s face darkened almost imperceptibly, so Tony continued on with a different question, unwilling to anger his host just yet. “Do you have a nickname? I already told you mine yesterday; I don’t know if you remember, but its Tony. Don’t call me Anthony, that’s something only my father does. Have you contacted him yet? Does he know about the situation that placed me here? How long have I been here? How easily annoyed are you? Can I keep talking, because I have lots of questions-“

“You may wish to slow down,” the man said with an amused quirk to his lips. Tony was internally relieved that the anger that had suddenly appeared had apparently dissipated just as swiftly, so he paused in his babble momentarily. When Loki didn’t say anything, Tony just raised one of his eyebrows, cocking his head slightly and awaiting some answers.

Loki simply smirked, and the two faced off in a waiting game. Tony judged the chances of being patient long enough to win and whose stubbornness would win. He decided to let Loki win this one, and spoke up. “So, how long have I been here? It can’t have been too long, because some of the abrasions on my chest are still _nasty_.” Tony made a face. “I mean, seriously, gross. Have you ever seen red blood illuminated by blue light, and the nasty shade bruises turn when lit by an otherworldly glow? If not, you are so lucky, ‘cause it is just _weird._ ” Tony nodded sagely.

Loki frowned slightly, and he stepped forward to get a closer look. “Are you wounds not healed? I had been under the impression...hmmm…show me your wounds.”

Tony gave him an odd look. “You better not be a perv,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt up, wincing as it dragged over the arc reactor imbedded in his chest. Some of the cuts were pulled at when Tony lifted his shirt, but the minor pain didn’t really bother him. Loki’s frown only grew, however, and Tony was starting to worry slightly. Loki was letting signs of some internal debate play over his face before he sighed and held a hand just above Tony’s chest.

Tony was beginning to pull back when he realized that Loki’s hand was glowing, the skin exuding a soft, green light. The hand was carefully traced over the wounds, almost brushing but not quite touching the injured skin. Tony watched in avid fascination as the skin knit itself back together, weaving to create a seamless skin and covering all of the cuts that had decorated his torso. “Wicked,” Tony breathed. “What is that?” He looked into bright green eyes as the hand hesitated near his new chest decoration.

The face transformed into a superior smirk. “That, Tony, is magic. I have no wish to see you injured, and thus I have healed you with my magic. Thanks would normally be customary after such a service is performed.”

Tony noted the heavily implied instructions and decided that was certainly impressive enough to warrant gratitude. “Thank you for the amazingly awesome speed-healing via super special magic powers, Loki!” Tony beamed at the Norse god before running his own hand across the planes of his chest, covering Loki’s immobile hand when he crossed it. His skin had been smooth and unbroken, with shallow dents and slightly elevated skin spotting across his now-healed chest. He grasped the hand tightly as he looked up into the bemused god’s face. “Was that really hard to do, or is healing easy? Can you destroy stuff too? I bet it’s even easier than healing ‘cause it’s really easy to break stuff while it is exceedingly difficult to repair objects.”

The pale face now held a slightly self-deprecating smile. “Oh, I can destroy entire worlds, little mortal. I can crush civilizations; tear them down from within while remaining innocent and unsuspected. Compared to those tasks, healing your fragile body was an easy feat.”

Tony resisted the urge to bite his lip in nervousness again as he felt the truth of Loki’s words. The god wasn’t lying; he had destructive power that could only be imagined of by humans. The hand resting over his new body decoration was chilled under his smaller hand, and he could see the tightening in the god’s posture. He was hitting all the sore spots, wasn’t he? Well, at least he would discover if Loki could tolerate him very, very quickly. “That makes you strong, doesn’t it? Being so powerful yet still being willing to heal me?” Tony carefully searched the man’s face for a reaction, but he couldn’t really understand what he was seeing. Both corners of his lips had lifted, but one remained far tighter than the other while it seemed to want to twitch into a smile.

Tony didn’t really like the smile; it was far too twisted and confused. “How does your magic work, anyways? Obviously it isn’t just whispering ritual words and producing an effect with no effort. You didn’t say anything, but your breathing changed slightly and your hand glowed bright green. Is it something only Norse gods can do, or could I learn it to? How long did it take for you to learn this? Was healing one of the harder things after all? Did you have to practice for copious amounts of time before gaining any promising results, or were your prodigious in your magical skills?”

Loki’s eyebrow twitched slightly, but the smile gracing his features was much more natural than the twisted smirk had been earlier. “I can clearly see why your enemies became annoyed with you so quickly. Luckily for you, I am not so easily irritated. Yes, Tony, it took effort and was more difficult than destroying your chest might have been. Magic is not something unique to just one race; most all sentient beings inhabiting the worlds on the branches of Yggdrasil have the ability to connect with magic in some fashion. You might even have the potential to wield this supposedly mystical force yourself, but it would likely take far longer than you would be willing to devote.” Loki pulled his hand away from Tony’s chest, but Tony refused to let go.

He held the hand within his own weak grasp, but refused to let the hand be pulled back more than halfway between them. “Try me,” he said with an impudent an excited grin. “Just try to teach me, see if I’m unable to work your magic. I will defy any and every expectation you place before me until you realize just what I can do. Try me.” His hand gripped the cold hand even tighter, refusing to back down or let Loki ignore his words.

The god was smirking at him now, superior and challenging but with a hint of respect. “Alright, then. We shall see what you can do with time, lessons, and practice.” His smirk changed into a toothy grin. “Just be careful of what expectations you lead me to believe, little Tony. You have to exceed them all, now.”

Tony returned the sharp smile full heartedly. “I look forward to it.” A loud rumbling noise suddenly split the air, and he watched as Loki’s face twisted in surprise as his own changed into a more normal smirk. “But first, breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here’s the second chapter. Sorry it is not as well composed as the first. I don’t really know how my portrayal of Tony worked for this chapter. I think he’s a little bit freer with his words and questions, always trying to figure out the world around him.   
> Loki…I have new motivation for him and an explanation for why he is so blunt with Tony. He wants someone to accept him for who he truly is, monster and all. He will never truly believe Thor and nobody else accepts him. So, he is unintentionally looking for acceptance from this small Midgardian child that was once a respected enemy.  
> And don’t worry, Loki wasn’t the one to rough Tony up. He actually kinda-sorta rescued Tony and the rest of the Avengers are panicking because Tony is missing. I am so glad I didn’t write the flashback before because I now have a marvelous scene for why Tony was injured and how he came to be kiddified in Loki’s home.  
> FF.net publish date: October 13, 2012  
> AO3 publish: October 13, 2012  
> Last edit: October 13, 2012  
> Words w/o AN: 2,551

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Wow. I was going to make Loki angry, but he suddenly started laughing. I was probably as surprised as you were. Well, he turned out far more docile than he was aiming to be in the beginning. Reason: he is tired, almost as exhausted as little Tony, worried he messed up Tony, and already feeling a mite bit protective over the little bugger.  
> So, in case you could not tell, Tony is only 6 , yet he has the arc reactor. Can anyone guess what that means? …De-aging! Loki de-aged his body as it was (so it is not the body he had when he was six; just his adult body with all of its scars reduced to a six-year old Tony’s development level) and Tony’s memories are missing!  
> …Should I add in a prologue at the beginning of the chapter detailing just how that happened? Let me know and I will come up with something.   
> To people who know me, probably none of you yet, yes. Yes, I did just start another fic, so sue me (not literally!!!). I have been caught up in the Avengers and Loki for a couple of weeks now, and I just had to contribute a story. This fic is inspired by ‘Attack of the Minivengers’ and ‘Baby Sitting Kidvengers.’ Search for them on ff.net or AO3- they are amazing.  
> Category issue solved…but I am also accepting advice for my rather shaky title.  
> This is not intended to be slash. This is a paternal/friendly Loki. Unless both characters scream at me that they want to do the nasty with each other, this will not be boy/boy.
> 
> Original ff.net posting: June 30, 2012  
> AO3 posting: September 13, 2012  
> Last updated: September 4, 2012  
> Word Count w/o AN: 2,629


End file.
